


BlackMail Brides

by Not_The_Underlord_Brendon_Urie



Series: Mind of a Madman [2]
Category: Black Veil Brides
Genre: Acceptance, Alliances, Blackmail, Kidnapping, Loss of hope, Non-Consensual Drug Use, psycho Marilyn Manson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-16 02:31:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14154732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_The_Underlord_Brendon_Urie/pseuds/Not_The_Underlord_Brendon_Urie
Summary: Marilyn Manson is back with a vengeance; and this time, nobody will stand between him and what he's been after.





	1. It Begins Again...

Andy awoke, the back of his head throbbing.

He looked around, not recognizing where he was; it was too dark to see, anyway.

Something wasn’t right; he knew that much already.

Andy sat up as his eyes adjusted to the light. 

He was in a basement, judging by the dingy atmosphere.

Andy was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard the door open, quick footsteps descending the staircase.

“Andy?” came a low voice.

Andy recognized that voice.

“Andy, are you awake yet?” the voice asked.

Andy watched the stairs and saw a tall man make contact with the cold basement floor.

It all became clear in a matter of seconds.

“You! You kidnapped me!” Andy exclaimed.

He had allowed this to happen.

He freed the man of the jail cell.

How does one wind up in a jail cell by mere accident?

“Now now, Andy. Kidnap is such a brash term. True, however, but I quite prefer to say that I chose you.” Manson replied, striding over to Andy.

Andy furrowed a brow. 

“Chose me? Chose me for what?” Andy inquired.

“You shall find out soon, my boy. In the meantime, I’m afraid I’m going to have to keep you down here, lest someone finds out what’s happened.” Manson said smoothly.

“What do you mean?” Andy asked, backing up.

“I mean you’re not going anywhere.” Manson said diabolically, approaching Andy.

Andy rushed at the man, knocking him to the ground.

Andy sprinted up the stairs, not looking back.

Manson stood, growling.

He made his way to the stairs, running after Andy.

<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>

Andy had taken shelter in the hall closet.

As immature as this was, he couldn’t think straight at the moment.

After all, he was trying to get away from the man who kidnapped him.

The closet was dark, the first shelf rather high; Andy fit pretty comfortably.

He heard footsteps approaching, accompanied by a daunting whistle.

<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>

Manson stalked calmly toward the closet, whistling.

“Andy? Where are you?” he asked in a sing-song tone.

This was merely for show; Manson knew  _ exactly _ where Andy was.

Manson opened the closet door, and smirked.

<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>

Andy opened his eyes when they were assaulted by a bright light.

He stayed still, hoping Manson wouldn’t see him.

He wasn’t so lucky.

“There you are, Andy. What are you doing in the closet?” Manson asked, announcing his presence. 

“How old do you think I am?” Andy asked, offended at Manson’s tone.

“Well, not that old, seeing as you thought the closet would be a sufficient hiding spot.” Manson replied.

Andy grimaced.

“Now get out of there, silly.” Manson said.

“Why should I?” Andy asked.

“You’d be wise to listen to me. Following the rules will keep you from meeting consequences.” Manson replied, raising a stern eyebrow.

Andy remained seated.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. Screw off.” Andy said boldly.

“Oh?” Manson questioned.

He found himself locking eyes with Andy, who refused to get up.

“If we have to do this the hard way, we will. Get up.” Manson told him.

Andy still refused to move, and proceeded to flip Manson off.

Manson grew angry.

“I’m losing my patience with you, kid. Either you cooperate with me, or face the consequences.” Manson growled.

Andy sighed deeply.

Just as Manson thought the boy would get up, Andy proved him wrong.

Instead of getting up, Andy immaturely made a sound of derision at the older man.

He stared Manson straight in the glinting eyes, challenging him.

“You little punk.” Manson growled.

He swiftly grabbed Andy’s arm, and pulled him forcefully out of the closet.

“Let go of me!” Andy screamed.

“Nice try, kid.” Manson snapped.

He dragged Andy kicking and screaming downstairs to the kitchen.

Upon arrival, Manson grabbed a syringe filled with a clear liquid off the counter.

Andy kicked him in the shin, and knocked the syringe out of his hand.

Manson wrapped his right arm around Andy’s throat, effectively holding him in place.

Andy flailed his arms and kicked his legs, trying to get out of Manson’s grasp.

Manson placed his right hand over Andy’s mouth, muffling his screams.

Andy, thinking quickly, bit his hand.

Manson screamed, and pulled away from Andy.

Andy ran out of the kitchen, and to the front door.

Realizing he could go back for the syringe, he turned.

He ran for a few paces, until he bumped right into Manson.

Falling onto his butt, Andy looked up.

Manson towered in front of Andy, arms folded.

“Going somewhere?” Manson asked.

Andy remained silent.

Manson pulled him up by the arm, and pinned him against his chest, holding his throat with his arm.

Andy froze, unsure of what to do.

Manson smirked as he plunged the needle into Andy’s arm, injecting the serum into the boy’s system.

Feeling the effects almost immediately, Andy went limp.

“Nighty night.” Manson whispered, lifting Andy over his shoulder.

Manson carried the sleeping boy down to the basement, set him down, and returned upstairs, locking the basement door behind him.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

Manson grinned a Cheshire grin, and made his way to the front door.

He opened it, and was delighted to see his new partner had arrived.

“Welcome, Dave. Come on in.” Manson greeted.

Dave Grohl nodded and crossed the threshold.

Manson closed the front door, and escorted Dave Grohl to the living room.

“So what did you need me here so soon for?” Dave Grohl asked.

“I need to show you something.” Manson said, smirking.

Dave Grohl raised an eyebrow.

“Brian, if it’s your shrine of Marilyn Monroe, I’ve seen it.” Dave Grohl replied.

“It’s  _ not  _ my shrine of Marilyn Monroe!” Manson whined, stamping his foot.

“Please don’t tell me it’s your  _ other  _ shrine...shrines. Brian, we’ve been over this. You cannot have shrines of yourself, it just makes you look like a narcissist.” Dave Grohl told him.

“I don’t have shrines of myself.” Manson said, regaining his composure.

Dave Grohl raised an eyebrow.

“Anymore…” Manson added as an afterthought.

“Have you been going to the support group?” Dave Grohl asked.

Manson blinked.

“Brian?” Dave Grohl asked slowly.

“I’ll go next week!” Manson whined.

“You’ll go tomorrow, and that’s that, mister.” Dave Grohl said.

“Ugh, fiiine!” Manson grumbled.

“Let me go!” came a sudden shout from the basement.

Dave Grohl looked at Manson.

“Brian, why did I just hear someone yell ‘let me out’?” he asked.

Manson said nothing.

“Actually, he said ‘let me go’.” Manson replied smugly.

He then realized that he had confirmed he had someone locked up in his basement.

Dave Grohl walked toward the basement door, and reached to open it.

“It’s locked, Dave.” Manson said smugly, smirking.

“Oh Brian. Brian, Brian, Brian. Did you forget so soon that I can pick locks?” Dave Grohl asked.

He extracted a bobby pin from his pocket, and picked the lock.

Turning the knob and opening the door, Dave Grohl ran down the stairs.

Manson growled, and followed him.


	2. Escape?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave Grohl finds out what he's signed on for.  
> Manson feels threatened by the possibility of a second betrayal, along with a conspiracy to ruin what he's trying to salvage.

He entered the basement to see Dave Grohl and Andy facing each other; they both turned to face him.  
“Brian, is this your ‘side project’? Kidnapping someone? Are you insane?!” Dave Grohl asked.  
Manson fidgeted.   
“Yes.” he said.  
A wicked smirk crossed his face.  
“And now I can’t just let you go.” he said evilly.  
Dave Grohl ran for the small window, and tried to crank it open.  
Manson grabbed him, and dragged him away from the window, promptly closing it.  
When Manson turned again, Dave Grohl struggling in his arms, Andy was gone.   
“ANDY!” he roared.  
Manson knocked Dave Grohl out, and ran to find Andy.  
Manson ran upstairs, and entered his bedroom.  
Walking around, he held his breath, hoping to find Andy quickly.  
‘He’s going to be in so much trouble when I find him’ Manson decided.  
Manson first made sure all the doors and windows were locked, then set off to find Andy.  
<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>  
Andy decided he was going to climb out the second floor window.  
He was currently looping all of Manson’s belts together, making a rope ladder of sorts.  
Just as he was attaching the last belt, he heard Manson’s voice calling him.  
‘Shit’ he thought.  
He needed to place this chain somewhere sturdy.  
He looked around, and his gaze fell upon a column.  
Andy quickly attached his giant loop of belts to it, and ran to the window.  
He opened it, and climbed through.  
That’s when he heard the door open, and Manson walk into the room.  
“I’ve got you now.” he said menacingly, smirking eerily.  
He strode towards the window, and yanked Andy back through it.  
Manson pulled Andy into a tight headlock, and tugged the loop of belts back through the window, and proceeded to shut it.  
“Oh Andy. When are you going to learn?” Manson sighed.  
“Let go of me!” Andy yelled, struggling.  
“Andy, you will cooperate with me, even if that means I have to subdue you.” Manson said.  
“Like hell you’re drugging me.” Andy retorted.  
“Andy, I can and I will. Don’t test me, kid.” Manson said seriously.  
Andy clenched his fist.  
He swung his fist behind his head, making to punch Manson on the nose.  
Before his knuckles made contact, Manson caught his wrist.  
“So that’s how you wanna play? Okay, very well.” Manson replied sardonically.  
He picked Andy up, and carried him downstairs.  
He sat Andy in a chair across from his own, and sat.  
Manson sighed.  
“Come on, Andy. Be good and just do what I say.” he said.  
“I’m not doing what you tell me, you psychopath.” Andy replied stubbornly.  
“I’m trying to be nice, here. Don’t make me force anything, you little brat.” Manson growled.  
Andy just stared at his captor.  
“No.” he said firmly.  
“You give me no choice. Just don’t come crying to me when you no longer get the option of something.” Manson replied.  
He grabbed the pre-prepared syringe, and approached Andy.  
He stuck the needle into the boy’s arm, and pushed down the plunger.  
The effects of the drug quickly hit Andy, and he fell limp.  
Manson grinned.  
As a precaution, he took Andy back down to the basement, and locked the door after coming back to the main floor.  
Manson walked over to where Dave Grohl was, and suddenly noticed his absence.  
“Davey, where are you?” he called.  
He got no response.  
‘He must’ve woken up’ Manson thought, setting off to find him.  
Dave Grohl heard the footsteps grow quieter.  
He climbed out of his hiding spot, smirking.  
Before he went any further, he replaced the ceiling tile, making sure it looked untouched.  
Dave Grohl walked towards the basement door, and picked the lock with his trusty bobby pin.  
He opened the door, and ran silently down the stairs.  
He saw that Andy was asleep, and cursed under his breath.  
‘Drugs? Really, Brian?’ he thought.  
He decided he’d check on Andy later; he couldn’t get caught again.  
If he was going to put his plan into action, he needed to keep his wits about him.  
Dave Grohl went back upstairs, closing and relocking the basement door.  
He then sat on the living room couch, and waited for Manson.  
<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>  
‘Dave didn’t go anywhere. He’s probably watching tv or something’ Manson told himself.  
He smirked, and went back downstairs.  
When he walked into the living room, he was taken aback to see Dave Grohl sitting calmly on the couch, legs crossed, waiting for him.  
“Hiya, Brian.” Dave Grohl said cheerily.   
Manson raised an eyebrow in confusion.   
“Hey, Dave.” Manson said cautiously.   
“Hey Brian, can you go get me everything on this list? It's not horrendously long, but I need it all right this very moment.” Dave Grohl told him.   
“Why can't you go get it yourself?” Manson asked suspiciously.   
“Well, someone needs to keep an eye on the hostage and make sure he doesn’t escape. Maybe I can earn his trust.” Dave Grohl said.   
Manson raised an eyebrow.   
“Hm, good point, Dave. Alright, I’ll do your stupid shopping. Just don’t let the little brat escape.” Manson replied.   
“You can count on me, Brian.” Dave Grohl told him.   
“Good. I’ll see you later, Dave. Don’t disappoint me, or you might end up in a...rather compromising position.” Manson replied.   
He grabbed his keys, put on his boots, laced them up, and left.   
Once Dave Grohl was sure he was gone, he went to the kitchen, getting some food and water for Andy.   
Dave Grohl headed downstairs.   
Andy was curled up in the corner, snoring softly.  
“Andy.” Dave Grohl called gently.   
Andy stirred, but did not get up.   
“Andy, are you okay?” Dave Grohl asked.   
“No.” came Andy’s soft-spoken reply.   
“Uh, are you hungry?” Dave Grohl tried.   
At this point, Andy sat up.   
“No, I’m not hungry.” Andy replied.  
Sighing deeply, Dave Grohl put the tray off to the side, and knelt down next to Andy.  
“Andy, I will get you out of here. I just need to work out how I’m going to do that. As soon as I can call in some back up, we’ll get you out of this. Don’t let Brian get to you. Keep a clear head, and keep looking on the bright side, okay?” Dave Grohl said.   
“I’ll try.” Andy replied.   
Dave Grohl clapped his hand on the boy’s right shoulder.   
“That’s all I ask of you. Now, do you have all your bandmates’ phone numbers?” Dave Grohl asked him.   
Andy nodded.   
“Excellent. Just tell me, and I’ll enter them in my phone.” Dave Grohl replied.   
He reached into his pocket, and froze.   
“Huh…” he muttered, checking the other pocket.   
They were both empty.   
“Ah, I left my phone upstairs. I’ll be right back, Andy.” Dave Grohl reported, jogging upstairs.   
Dave Grohl grabbed his phone, tucked it away in his pocket, and turned on his heel.   
Just as he was about to go back downstairs, the front door opened.   
“Hey Dave.” Manson said.   
Dave Grohl turned to face the other man.   
“Hey Brian.” he replied, acting as casually as possible.   
“So what did you do while I was out?” Manson asked, placing a few bags on the counter.  
“Eh, not much, really.” Dave Grohl replied.   
Manson strode over to the basement door, and Dave Grohl stepped off to the side.   
“I’m going to check on the brat. I’ll be back.” Manson told him.   
He reached for the doorknob, but halted.   
“I could’ve sworn I locked the door.” Manson muttered.   
He turned to face Dave Grohl.   
“Were you downstairs at all recently?” he asked.   
“I can neither confirm nor deny the possibility of myself being in the basement.” Dave Grohl replied slowly, rubbing the back of his neck.   
Manson scowled.   
“Are you turning on me, Dave?” he asked in a low voice.   
“What? No. Don’t be silly, Brian. I would never.” Dave Grohl responded, chuckling nervously.   
Manson slowly approached the former, and loomed threateningly over him.   
Though there was not a great deal of height between them, Manson possessed an intimidating air nonetheless.   
“I am going to ask you this once, and only once. Are you with me or are you against me, like that traitor Bob?” Manson asked.   
“Bob?” Dave Grohl asked.   
“He was my partner, or at least he was supposed to be, before he regrettably died.” Manson replied.   
Dave Grohl bit his bottom lip nervously.   
Manson was getting suspicious.   
He knew he needed to get Andy out of here and get Manson in jail before it was too late.   
“Brian, don’t do anything rash-” Dave Grohl started, before he was abruptly cut off by Manson.   
“Enough!” Manson yelled, wrapping his skeletal hand over Dave Grohl’s throat.   
“You’ve tried me for the last time. I am going to get what I’ve been looking for, and you are not going to stop me. So you can forget about your little friend until further notice.” Manson said viciously.   
He glared at Dave Grohl, and let him go.   
The former gasped.   
His knees gave out, and he fell back into Manson’s outstretched arms.   
Manson tsked, and dragged the unconscious man upstairs, locking him in the spare bedroom.   
Manson went back downstairs, making his way to the basement.   
When he arrived, he found Andy sitting in the corner.   
“Well, if it isn’t my little buddy Andy. How’s conspiring with Davey?” Manson asked, his tone cool and condescending.  
“Where’s Dave? He said he’d be right back.” Andy said quietly, turning to face his captor.   
Manson approached Andy, a look of mock sorrow on his otherwise neutral face.   
“Aww, I hate to break it to you baby boy, but he left. He said he didn’t want to work with me anymore, so he went home.” Manson replied.   
Andy huffed.   
“But don’t worry,” Manson began, kneeling down next to the boy, putting his hands on his shoulders.   
“You still have me.” Manson added.   
He smirked as he extracted a syringe from his back pocket, and grasped it in his right hand.   
Slamming his left hand over Andy’s mouth, Manson guided the syringe to Andy’s right forearm.   
Inserting the needle, Manson pushed down the plunger, injecting Andy with the same drug he’d been using on him.   
The sound of Andy’s muffled screams were met by Manson shushing him.   
Andy was overcome by the drug, and fell asleep.   
Manson stroked his hair in a manner he thought to be comforting, and laid him down on the floor.   
Manson noticed the tray of food and water, and decided to leave it; if the brat woke up and he was hungry, he couldn’t complain that Manson wasn’t feeding him.   
Manson looked at the sleeping boy, chuckled, and returned to the main floor, shutting and locking the basement door behind him.


End file.
